The Price/Prize of Choice

Every Christmas sermon centers on the greatest gift of God to the world when the word of the prophets uttered some 400 years before the event came to pass with the birth of Jesus Christ. For God so loved the world that He gave... whether or not man believes, whether or not man accepts or rejects the gift, Jesus Christ is given...to save man. I have to admit though, I think Christmas is sometimes "overdone"; we get  hung up on the little baby born in a manger, shepherds, angels and kings bearing gifts. We also get pretty hung up on bling-bling Christmas trees, feasting and opening presents. Nothing wrong with celebrating the birthday of the Savior of the world, for sure, though honestly I don't really see the connection between the historical fact and the latter activities. In fact, the truth is Jesus wasn't even born on Dec 25th.  And what's more important Jesus didn't remain a baby. The baby grew up into a Man of sorrows, lived rejected by His own, died a horrible death by crucifixion and rose from the grave in spectacular glory. In the midst of 33 years of life on earth, He stilled storms, multiplied food,  healed the sick, cast out demons, raised the dead.  That's the full miraculous story of the One who called Himself I AM - the answer God gave when Moses asked for His name. The implications are pretty obvious.

I attended an inter-faith community dinner with a group of non-Christian university students over the Christmas season. Some had never heard the real story of Jesus Christ. The common perception was more about Santa Claus and Jingle Bells, though they knew it was supposed to be the birthday of Jesus. How sad. Is that all Christmas has been reduced to in the eyes of a world exposed to inane pop-songs passing off as Christmas carols in shopping malls decorated with giant replica trees, which actually originated from a pagan festival?  But what's Christmas without the tree, presents, carols, nativity scenes? I can do without all that, since the birth of Christ is for me a personal time to remember, reflect and simply receive...

To remember there's a God who so loved me, who so loved the world that He gave Jesus Christ to us all... to reflect on how Jesus lived and died so that none may perish... to receive with thanksgiving and assurance the forgiveness of my sin and eternal life forevermore - which the Bible defines as "to know... the only true God and  Jesus Christ whom He has sent." (John 17:3)   The Christian (not just Christmas) message has always been about salvation. We like to say salvation is free, because Jesus paid the price at the cross, when He carried the world's sin on His shoulders and died for us all, so that we may live.  

I am also very used to mouthing that until the other day my dear son, full of his 24 years' wisdom, boldly stated that salvation is not free, because humans still have to do something to be saved from hell - We have to believe Jesus. So really , there is a price we have to pay. Our choice - to believe or not, to follow or not - is that price. For a moment I was pretty stumped by his observation.  Yet come to think of it, his logic is absolutely correct.
And I guess viewed from that perspective, Christmas isn't just about giving - as God gave His most precious - but it's as much, if not even more, about receiving the gift. Receiving Christ isn't about keeping the rules of a religion. Nor is it a social reform agenda of doing 'good' or being 'gooder' than the rest of humankind. It's about making a choice to follow a Person. And that costs. As one writer puts it, the Christian faith makes demands on those who profess it. It challenges the ones who dare to believe, it redefines the deepest concepts of who we are, what life should be all about  and what is really true. It has the power and right to change us and our world.  Sure, it is a personal thing but the implications go beyond personal because everything is now seen through the lens of a risen Savior.

Actually if God doesn't ask of me anything , then really he's just Santa Claus in disguise. When I chose to 'become' a Christian, it means I should no longer be what I was before. I am supposed to be what the Bible calls "a new creation...the old has passed away." (2 Corinthians 5:17)  That entails giving up "old things" - attitudes, mind-sets, perspectives, even rights - not out of a sense of obligation to obey religious regulations but out of love for the God who knows me best and wants the best for me. Love is what motivates me to follow what He says, not what I want. And that struggle  between my (human) desires - which are mostly to further my own comfort and convenience - versus His (divine) will - which are sometimes just plain incomprehensible -  is a price I pay willingly to be a follower of Christ.

The price goes even higher when we consider the reality that Christians are being persecuted all over the world everyday; Wikipedia quotes a source as high as 200 million in recent times. Imprisonment, torture, ostracization, rejection, some pay with their very lives. Just like Jesus. Actually why should it be any different ? Jesus Himself said,  " Remember what I told you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master. If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also." (John 15:20)

But isn't Christianity all about a God who blesses? Indeed it is. That's where the prize comes in, even though the price may be high. It may cost me everything, but the rewards are beyond anything and everything I can ever ask, dream or pray for. When I look around at an all-messy, upside-down world,  I can rest in His peace and know that He is God. When my heart gets all battered up, and life gets a bit too much, as the Apostle Paul put it, I can still " be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer" (Romans 12:12) because I know my God who promised is not a liar.

We are ever so willing to pay the price of our time, energy, money, etc to get...an education, a job, spouse,  house, power, position...whatever . By the same token, many don't mind giving up personal comfort and convenience (that's a price to pay) to serve their own pet altruistic causes. Yet the ultimate price for every human soul has been paid by the One who was born to die at the cross of Calvary.  All so that we may obtain the best prize of all - the abundance of the  heavenly Father's love and power through Jesus Christ, in this life and a guaranteed hereafter, forever in His presence. This is the stuff that no money can buy, which no human can ever give. Christ is worth it all..  Now why would I not want to pay the price of believing and receiving such an unbeatable deal....

"Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For His sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ" - Philippians 3:8 

Most Meaningful Moments

People call it a bucket list - things that they want to experience or accomplish in a life-time. Well, I am not into lists. There are some things I have never thought about doing, which I have done, like climb a mountain at age 55. Or canyon-eering off the edge of a waterfall at 58.  It's one of those crazy unplanned  stuff that happens along the journey of life. I have never even heard of the term before

until now. I am acrophobic - that's fear of heights. I get jittery just looking down the balcony of a high-rise (for me, that means anything above 2 storeys) apartment. So my first impulse was to say no to the proposal to go jump off a cliff into unknown depths. My plan was to follow on the trek and wait for the gung-ho youngsters at the very safe bottom of the waterfall. That way I wouldn't miss the beauty of the famed Kawasan Falls of Cebu and still be in one piece. So we all got started off with a rickety ride, using old sputtering motor-cycles, 3 persons squeezed onto one machine, bumping over dirt tracks, convoy-style,  into the jungle.

However, things don't always work out as we intend. So it was,  watching tourists and my own family of 4 line up to take their turn dropping off into the beautiful waters, I thought what the heck, might as well go for it. After all, it's just a jump of 10 m.  Easier said than done, for  I stopped short right at the edge, and literally did a U-turn to 'pusing balik' not once but twice - what a comedy. And when I did jump, it was a classic flop.  In spite of  the guide having told us how to do it properly - go in feet first, keep your hands at your side, etc etc - I landed splat on my face and chest. They should circulate my video as a perfect example of how not to do canyon-eering.  The pain was very bad; I felt like my face and chest was exploding into pieces, even padded with a life-vest,  I was literally knocked out of breath. Thank God my guide was quick to react - straight away like a true hero, he jumped in to rescue the old aunty in distress.

Well, I survived; with my face and body still intact, albeit aching like crazy. Was it worth it? Of course not, all I got was extreme pain and it's not like I got rid of my fear of heights anyway. Which is why I refused the next jump of 15 m and resolutely stuck my two feet on solid ground. In fact I don't want to do any more canyon-eering - ever. My eldest princess was the exact opposite, she wanted to do a third jump, to get it 'perfect'.  My no. 2 got somewhat stuck at the highest level jump of 15 m. Whilst her other 2 siblings just leapt off, she took a long time, gathering up her courage. But she did it finally. There was another young man who looked so fit and yet took an even longer while to jump.

Later as  I watched and laughed at the video clips the guide took of our  adventure in the forest, it struck me actually it's ok to be afraid, to be 'chicken' about certain things. It's acceptable to 'miss it' in spite of all the teaching and reminding.  It's not a shame to be laughed at. Nor does my ignominious display mean I am a failure at anything else. I don't have to 'get it right' every time; I don't have to prove anything to myself, much less to anyone else. I am so glad my God doesn't require me to be 'perfect', so glad He's always there to sort out the messes I make in life.

The day before we had a literal whale of a time - a close encounter with alive whale-shark, the largest species of its kind in the ocean. Watching the huge fish underwater gliding past so close was surreal.

But it wasn't really all that great, not that it was the shark's fault. It was all the waiting around - 2 hours just to spend 20 minutes in the murky choppy sea, swallowing lots of salty water in the process. And the crowds just showed how commercialized it all was. Still it's a must-do thing in Cebu. Just like island-hopping, chasing spotty turtles and silvery sardines . Like visiting Magellan's Cross, the spot where the famed explorer Ferdinand Magellan apparently planted the first emblem of Christianity in Philippines. For good measure we arrived in time to witness a very public Catholic mass held outside the church with many standing, holding umbrellas in the hot sun.

Indeed Cebu was a great adventure. But my best moments were actually not about the action stuff. Rather it was on the penultimate day when the kids opted to go rock-climbing and I was left to my devices, as I didn't fancy more heights. The evening before I had seen the woman lying on the kerb, with her toddler, as we ventured to try out Jollibee - the Philippines version of McD, which was rather different and pretty good. Already my heart was stirred. But she wasn't there by the time we came out. The next morning, I packed the extra left-over hot-dog, a packet of cookies and 2 apples and walked to the place again. But they were no longer there. I walked on further and saw another dirty bed-raggled young boy sitting outside Jollibee, which was all I needed to act. It was priceless to watch his eyes grow so big as he opened up the bag I gave to him,  jabbering excitedly to himself. But that wasn't the end of my blessing. As I turned to walk back to the hotel, there she was - the 'street' lady with her kid - hidden behind a parked van. So I went back to Jollibee and for a mere RM8, got to bless a very hungry mother and child with burger and spaghetti.  That was the most meaningful moment of my holiday indeed.

But that's still not the end. Since I had time to kill, and I really didn't fancy walking around the jam-packed roads of Cebu city in the heat, I signed up for the hotel 2 1/2 hour massage service. My therapist was a  young woman, my name-sake - Cristina. I asked her if she knew the meaning of her name; she said it was given her because she was born near to Christmas day. And then out of nowhere, she spoke of her fear of Christ. When I probed, she confessed she was afraid of sinning. That was when I told her the real meaning of her (and my) name, which I found out only after some 25  years, when I first accepted Christ at age 40 - it means "follower of Christ". How inexplicable and unexpected are the ways of a God who cares so much for us. That He would send me, a total stranger, to explain to one who never quite knew the truth -  how Christ had come to remove all sin and all fear for those who believe enough to just follow Him, not follow a system of religion, a church denomination, political parties, human saints or leaders.  It was my privilege to see her face light up with such a beautiful smile as she said in parting, in perfect understanding, "I follow Christ."

That ultimately is what life - my life-  is all about. I could go through the most awesome adventures on holidays, see the most beautiful sun-sets, experience highest joy, deepest sorrow. I could understand nothing, I could fail at everything. But one thing surpasses all - to follow Christ , for that alone brings about the most meaningful moments of life.

"For me, to live is Christ..." - Philippians 1:21 

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How Not To Do It

Ground Zero

It hit me hard; I didn't see it coming at all. I thought I could just walk off with no damage, beyond shedding a few sentimental tears. After all, I had already prepped myself up since 2 years ago for the day I would quit. At that time I had decided to leave the job on my own accord, but to my chagrin, I was thoroughly rebuked by my Big Boss in heaven with a pointed question, "Who asked you to leave? I am giving you one more year of grace." Well, when He talks, I better listen, if I know what's good for me. Come 2018, I could go, according to His time. The only problem was I didn't expect it to end like this.

It's often said the deepest hurts are caused by people who are closest to us. Actually that truism isn't confined to just  family members, but extends into a wider circle of friends, colleagues, bosses, even strangers. Who hasn't been hurt before anyway; by the same token, who amongst us dare say we have never ever hurt others, whether intentionally or unintentionally. Which just goes to show, we are all the same, no matter what our skin color, religion, status, gender or age. I have seen with my own eyes kids as young as 4 years old mocking friends who can't sing the alphabet song or color inside the line. And let's not get started about the horrible words people throw at each other behind the anonymity of social media. Some say it's only words, but to me, it's verbal murder; it reveals a heart that doesn't care about others.  My daughter shrugs it off as freedom of expression. I can't, not because I can't be 'thick-skin' but because I do not think freedom extends to abuse; physical or otherwise. And I just happen to think everyone can disagree without being rude or hostile.

Hurts are very real. And painful. Emotional wounds are literally a stab in the heart. It can get so bad it drives some to suicide. Others build a wall of denial so thick they don't even know, nor will they ever admit, they are in denial. Me, I curl up inside of me and cry. And cry, and cry. I take comfort in God's word that "You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?" (Psalm 56:8,) Many times, especially when I feel all battered up inside, I wondered how many bottles of my tears God has in His hand. I don't know how big His bottles are, but I imagine it's bottomless, like His love. And I am consoled; like a crying baby finally pipes down when embraced by loving hands.

Sometimes though, the tears keep coming, afresh; when the hurt is especially bad. Like when I see my children ignoring/abandoning  the God who promised that He is Father to the fatherless (them) , defender of widows (me); but since it's their choice,  there's nothing I can do about it, except cry and pray. Like when people I assumed would do the right thing turn around and do the exact opposite. Like when you get to hear the gossip that goes on behind your back. Like when all that you ever held dear seemingly gets pulled out from under your feet.

So there I was, stunned by the speed of it all. One after another - job, ministry, cell, church - everything that had kept me actively engaged for these past 16 years of life got swept away under a flood of tears. It no longer matters how it happened or the circumstances that led to it. I thought I was just reacting out of emotions, but when I asked God, He answered, not with one, but many confirmations that indeed it is His will that all this should happen. Still not satisfied, when I asked for a final word, He sent someone who didn't know anything about my actual situation, to tell me I can't move on without letting go.

Immediately the peace swept through my heart; and I understood I was being stripped of everything I had depended on or boasted in, so that now I would have nobody and nothing else left except Him. I was becoming zero so He could become 100% in my life. Christians call it dying to self, so that Jesus becomes our all in all. Just like Jesus Himself had to die on the cross, so that the whole earth would be filled with the knowledge of the glory of God. If Jesus didn't die, there would have been no resurrection; if there was no resurrection, there would be no salvation for the world. We would all be dead, literally, physically, spiritually, in every sense of the word. Jesus had to let go of His life to save us from all that death would rob us of.

So too,  if I desired to move into another higher level in Him,  I had to let go of the old things holding me down, even  good things, even if it's a painful process. Because only God has the best plan for my life, something which I could never ever think up , no matter how smart or talented I think I am . I am learning hurt has gold buried somewhere inside it. There are always 2 reactions that hurt draws forth. It can either drive us towards or away from God. It's the ancient paradox of faith, that requires humans to choose to believe that in spite of bad things happening, God is always good. That God doesn't always prevent us from experiencing pain, suffering or evil. Those who expect God to justify Himself,  to answer the hard questions of life, will inevitably be disappointed and turn away to worship something/someone else, like the world or ourselves. 

Anyone who says Christianity is an easy way is either a liar or has yet to experience its true depth. How can it be easy to believe, trust and obey,  when it goes against our own desires, even when circumstances and logic dictate we should just give up on something as nebulous as God? How easy can it be to submit your will to another? In today's world, submission is a dirty word. It conjures up images of slaves driven by whips or robots with no will, programmed automatically to obey a command when a button is pushed.  But that's not how submission works with God. Someone put it so well that Christians choose to submit not as slaves, but as lovers of God, who appreciate that the One who first loved us enough to die for us would always have our best interests in His heart.  Still as much as I know that truth, it's easier said than done.  I can understand the doubts, I have had my  share of them.

But the good news is He doesn't reject me in spite of my weaknesses and lack of faith. Time and again, He proves His faithfulness; He comes through for me, if I only am willing to accept Him on His terms and stand on nothing more than His Word.  So whilst tears may blur my vision, and swords pierce my heart, I remember He is my Healer, Restorer, Deliverer, Redeemer, Savior, Lover and Beloved of my soul. And He is more than enough for me; He will pick me up and build me up from ground zero.

"Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert" Isaiah 43:19

No Heroes

My daughter had raved about the movie, so when she mentioned a friend was giving away two free tickets, I grabbed the offer. However I could only use 1 ticket, as none of my friends were free for the last-minute deal. I figured I could pass it on anyway. So I headed for the cinema counter, where there was a line of people queing. The reactions I got from the various people I approached to give away the free ticket were rather amusing to say the least. One actually veered away physically from me when I waved the ticket at her, as if I was the plague or something. A Chinese uncle was most interested until I told him it was for a Malay show. Another couple eyed me suspiciously, as they shook their heads. One guy's expression plainly showed his opinion of me - this woman must be mad. A young punk teasingly said he would sit beside me, just to keep me company, except that he was from Hong Kong and couldn't understand Bahasa. Funny, I guess no one goes around asking strangers if they want free movie tickets, except odd-ball old aunties like me? Anyway I gave up my good intentions since it was time to go into the movie hall...and so was wasted 1 ticket to a pretty provoking show.

The producer of this movie was apparently disappointed at its lack-lustre showing amongst  Malaysian audiences, especially since it was nominated for awards in some international film festivals.  Indeed the cinema hall on the day I went was not even half-full; there were barely 20 people, and only 2 non-Malays watching the show, one of them being this old aunty. Which is rather  regrettable, because actually it's a movie that's worthy of attention....

One Two Jaga  - what a weird title, I thought. It apparently references a children's game of Police and Thieves, a favourite of the good old days. I remember playing it many times in my childhood with friends.  I salute the producer for tackling a subject like police corruption in Malaysia. Everyone knows it happens, which reflects very badly on our guys in blue of course. It isn't fair, but the problem as always is with perspective, so no matter how few the 'black sheep', it taints the entire flock. And to play this issue up against the back-drop of illegal immigrants is a brilliant touch. Because the migrant problem is also a very real one in this country, which for the most part, remains sadly ignored altogether.

Indeed it's a 'heavy' movie. Don't expect any laughs.  I must say the settings in the movie are beautifully authentic, from typical run-down migrants quarters which I regularly see when I walk pass the back alleys of KL in my street ministry work to  crowds of foreigners milling around  certain streets in the city, jabbering on their hand-phones. In fact it's a good eye-opener for those of us who live in the rarefied atmosphere of air-conditioned offices and homes that there are actually people who live 'like that' in our midst.

But the loudest claps must go to the actors, who all play their parts very well, down to accented language and mannerisms of certain races. I could so identify with the characters, even to the long-haired, tattooed, chain-smoking self-proclaimed rebel-leader of the motley 'gang' of foreign construction workers. By the time of the climax scene, you just knew there would be no happily-ever-after ending for anyone.

If there was one theme to single out in this movie, it's simply all about money. How greed for it  drives people to murder, cheat, steal, even die for.  Whether it's to ease business deals or to support a family, bottom line is it's still greed, though we would rather term it 'need' so it doesn't sound so bad.  I like how the movie treats corruption as no respecter of persons  - whether it's the Malay or Chinese cop, the Indian datuk  or shopkeeper, the Indonesian in a construction site or the Filipino in a cyber-cafe - all are 'equalized' as  the disease sucks everyone into its deadly grasp. Much like sin, I venture. Doesn't matter whether we are a king or a beggar - we are all infected with this killer-strain called sin. Thanks to the innate survivalist instinct of every man for himself, and the desire to live life on our own terms, we strive and connive to get the best out of every situation, at the expense of others.

We may even think we are doing good, like the rookie cop, who merely wants to perform his job responsibly. So in the discharge of his public and professional duty, he pulls out his gun and shoots, all very justifiable, right and proper, according to him.  But who could have predicted the dire and tragic consequences of just one act of uncontrolled anger on so many lives? An innocent child died, a grieving father went berserk. A riot broke out. Many were hurt.  Likewise who could have imagined the single act of Adam's disobedience against God would condemn all the rest of mankind to eternal death?

I tried hard to look for some redeeming feature in this dark movie of life's realities. Yes, the hidden spider-web of corruption was exposed, most of the guilty were caught and punished according to law.  But to me, it was all rather depressing because I couldn't find any heroes to applaud, only victims. The stressed-out brother who labors so hard to get his runaway sister home to Indonesia ends up 'oiling' the wheels of corruption, because that's how the system works. The one righteous cop also failed in spite, despite, of all his good intentions to bring about justice.  It reminds me how we humans can try so hard to do right and still fail miserably. His experienced partner speaks the truth when he says it's no point, you arrest these today, many more will take their place tomorrow. In short, since you can't beat the system, might as well join it.

But some things are plain wrong, some things are plain right; and there's no in-between possible. Sin is sin, in God's eyes, no matter how small, no matter how justified or justifiable in human eyes. Maybe that's why many people get 'turned off' by God, because we just don't want anyone else to define what's right or wrong for us, and we certainly don't want to be held accountable to any other being except ourselves. Yet "there is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death" (Proverbs 14:12) . If we choose to refuse God's offer of eternal life through Christ, obviously death is the inevitable result. He doesn't force it down our throats, but the choice we make bears certain consequences - it determines how we end, in life and in death.

Ridiculously Impossible

None of my children were interested in following the exploits of an aging Tom Cruise in Fallout, the 6th in the  MI (Mission Impossible) franchise which apparently stretches back some 22 years ago. So I roped in an "old" fren to accompany me. I think she probably regretted having to sit for some 2 1/2 hours beside a very "jumpity" old aunty , who was so noisy "ooh-ing" and "ahh-ing" in the  (thankfully) almost empty cinema on a mid-day afternoon.  I don't think she's into ogling handsome (aging) hunks running, leaping through roof-tops, bungy-jumping off cliffs or flying burning helicopters. But I had the time of my life, biting my finger-nails and peering through half-covered eyes at the mind-numbing, almost non-stop action on the big screen. Added bonus for me - on top of the hero, even the turn-coat villain was such a handsome hunk. So definitely the latest MI flick gets not only my thumbs-up but all my other fingers-up too. Notwithstanding it's tried (or rather tired) formula of self-destructing messages and noble attempts to prevent evil-doers from blowing up the whole world with nuclear weapons.

Which come to think of it, is actually a very possible scenario after all, given the state of world affairs in this age. Especially since I am sure there are no lack of people whose minds are wired like Solomon Lane, the recurring antagonist in the series, bent on creating a new world order using terror to destroy, without any compunction whatsoever for life. So to him, it doesn't matter if billions get wiped out by deliberately-released diseases or simultaneous nuclear bombs exploding across continents. It's the same to him; he sees everything wrong with the current system, so he will overturn it.. any way... just like the old Sinatra song... " I did it my way."

But actually he's got a point - there's some truth to his declaration that " There cannot be peace without first, a great suffering. The greater the suffering, the greater the peace..." To the hero, he quotes a very relevant part of the pre-recorded message that always accompanies his top-secret assignments,  "Your mission , should you choose to accept it....and then he asks , " I wonder, did you ever choose not to? The end, you've always feared… it's coming… and the blood will be on your hands! The fallout of all your good intentions."

Isn't it true, we all have all sorts of good intentions. From simple things like getting "good" jobs to provide the best for ourselves and our families, to more altruistic stuff like taking care of the environment, doing charity to help the poor and marginalized, standing up for equal rights for all, preserving the peace of the nation... And mostly we do it according to the way/s we think best. Now and then, we may listen and adopt ideas from other people, other sources. We learn to sit together at round-tables to thrash out problems. Throughout all our good intentions, we  are faced inevitably with multiple choices - to do this, that or the other.

The point is simply this - there is always a price to pay for what's dear to us, or as the devil would put it, how much for your soul? The next issue is obviously are we prepared to pay the price. It doesn't matter what the intention is, it's irrelevant even whether it's good or bad (after all, that is a matter of perspective) .  Indeed the villain of MI had grandiose plans to make the earth a peaceful place. No matter that it ironically involved instilling fear and commission of murder.

The hero also had an equally noble intention - to save the world  - and he too went to great lengths on this motivation alone, in spite of set-backs, disappointments and betrayal. Both were prepared to die for their cause.  In fact the things the hero did were logically, physically, ridiculously impossible. Who can leap through roofs, as if they were roads, or maneuver a motorcycle (even if it's a super-duper bike) against layers of traffic , who can fly a helicopter with failed engines in an aerial fight to the death? And still walk away with the prize of a disabled detonator in the mouth, hanging onto a cliff face amidst the beauty of Kashmir's mountains? Well, heroes never die, they just live to fight another day. Even if they get killed off, it's so that good will always triumph over evil. That's movie-land.

We tend to shrug it all off when the lights come on and we walk back into the reality of our little mundane lives. Which is unfortunate, because actually movies mimic reality. We know deep in our hearts, somethings are just plain wrong when wars break out - no need to look afar to nations - just look outside our own backyard - to ordinary people pitted against each other, engaged in stirring up hate and mistrust instead of love and unity.  The reasons can vary from religion, race, gender, politics, values, morality. Most certainly death is a horrible tragedy, whether it's 1 individual dying of cancer, or thousands swallowed up by a tsunami. Surely a heart that's human must feel something at the common suffering of mankind and the bad things that happen all over the world. Is there a real hero we can actually hope in?  Or are we confined to just accepting what the mad Solomon Lane said... "The end, you've always feared… it's coming… and the blood will be on your hands! The fallout of all your good intentions."

The truth of the matter is man cannot save man, it doesn't matter what skin color we are born with, where we are located in the world, what political or religious stands we hold, we are all only one kind - sinners in the eyes of a Holy God who deserve  judgment. That, as we would say, is the bad news. But the God who so loved the world He created good has good news - He sent a hero, Jesus Christ, the Anointed One, incarnated into flesh and blood, to planet earth to do fantastic things. This hero  didn't come riding on a white horse or driving a fancy car. He simply walked around, or at most sat on a donkey, but He did crazy things - He opened blind eyes, healed all manner of sick, cast out demons, stilled the storm and raised the dead.  He didn't fight His enemies; He loved them.  He didn't cheat death; He conquered it by the greatest suffering of dying on a cross - by His blood wiping out forever the stain of sin from man's miserable record. And ultimately He did the impossible - He Himself rose up alive; a tomb couldn't shut Him in.

He could have chosen not to accept His assignment to save the world of man from destruction. But He didn't flinch; He went all the way and accomplished His mission - by His own death and resurrection. His story isn't a movie tale, cast in jaw-dropping high speed stunts.  In the eyes of doubting men, it is a ridiculously impossible story. But there was no falling out of the divinely ordained good intention - the salvation of sinners . And for those who dare believe Him, it's a story of hope secured, forgiveness assured, redemption purchased, victory attained - in this world and beyond. It's a story Hollywood can never compete with. 

'Those who heard it said, “Then who can be saved?” But Jesus said, “What is impossible with man is possible with God.” Luke 18:26-27

Just a little bit off

I was most embarrassed. This was my 2nd visit to the kiosk after purchasing the modem and having made many calls to their customer service centre, finally being advised to bring back the item for examination. The young man manning the counter didn't say much as I explained how I had tried everything they told me over the phone to connect the wires, re-configure settings and all that technical jazz which made little sense to an old aunty like me. I expressed my frustration that I still couldn't find my wi-fi name on the network and although the PC displayed the message that connections were available, I still had no Internet access. Young man turned the device over, opened up the back and drawled, "The SIM card is inserted wrong - opposite end." "Oh o.... But how come it says got connection.." Old aunty blubbered. Young man shrugged nonchalantly, "it can work a little but not fully. That's why got problem." And with that, he carefully withdrew the SIM card with a small instrument and put it back the other way. "Now check your phone, can see your wi-fi name?" There it was...talk about duh....

Which reminds me of another incident with the SIM card in my hand-phone. (I seriously think SIM cards and I have an aversion to each other.) I was going for an overseas trip and a kind friend who had just come back passed me the foreign country's SIM card. I thought it would be a piece of cake putting it into my phone. Instead I spent an hour fiddling with 2 SIM cards and trying to get them either in or out of the card slots in my phone. The result was a lot of sweat and a "wonky" phone which  sometimes worked and sometimes didn't. I took it to one of those ubiquitous kiosks again, manned by a young man. How come these places always seem to be manned by young (smart aleck) men? He yawned as I explained what I had done, and never even bothered to so much as look at my phone. He merely said, "SIM card slot spoil already. $100 to repair per slot (there were 2 slots in my phone), and it takes at least 4 days. Better buy new phone."

Of course I had neither the time nor the money at that point. So I took a wonky phone overseas and ended up having to bear international roaming charges even though the setting was definitely off.  Man, that was one expensive lesson to learn to be gentle with tiny, fragile slots and not simply force, poke, pull or push SIM cards through.

So what's my point, besides grouching about SIM cards? Well, it struck me that actually even though I got it all wrong, the devices still worked...somewhat. Isn't that just like life. We can get it all wrong, barking up the wrong trees, and we can still live a pretty good life. On the surface at least, everything still seems to function alright. We wake up every morning, put on our brave faces and march out to conquer the world, or at least just get by day after day, through the traffic jams, the headaches in the office, the heart-aches no one sees.

Actually we can succeed pretty well at life, which is dangerous, because we don't even know anything is wrong in the first place. We can go on drifting along, quite content with what we are
accustomed to, day in, day out and not realize that there's really something missing. As we climb the world's ladders , sometimes we may fall. Some will just pick themselves up by their own shoe-strings and keep moving on. Some never quite get up again. Some get to the top and suddenly discover the view from there isn't that great after all. So they set their sights on another ladder and start the climb all over again. And we pat ourselves on the back for a job well-done, because we did it all our way.

I used to be like that. I got along fine for some 40 years of my life. Been there, done that. Never entertained any thought that I could be missing anything. How could I be missing anything when I had everything (at least I thought I had everything then) - loving husband, cute kids, 2 houses, 2 cars, good job (read high salary)? I was more than content with my life back then, who wouldn't be. It took a literal  life-n-death crisis to shake me upside down inside out.

And I was never the same again. That doesn't mean it was easy. God never promised us a rose garden; indeed beautiful roses come
with prickly thorns. After all, no one could have imagined how a crown of thorns and 3 nails driven through a man named Jesus hung on a cross would be the fullest proof of a Love so beautiful it could save anyone who believes.  One would have thought logically it should get easier - the older one gets, the wiser one should become. At least that's how it's supposed to be. But the Christian life isn't like that. On this road, I still trip up myself and others.

My flesh would have me be content with an uncomplicated life, where I can just go to church every Sunday, enjoy the worship, teaching and fellowshipping with people just like me.  I would be doing all the right things according to the book. Yet I wouldn't be any the wiser because according to God's standards, I would be all wrong.  Like a wonky SIM card or hand-phone, which is just "a little bit off", I  could still 'work', but I wouldn't be doing what I am capable of - I wouldn't be charging full steam ahead, entering into my destiny with the God of all eternity, the God who has saved me for His (not my) good purpose.

The worst thing is I wouldn't even realize my lack.  How many people go through life, totally unaware of what they are missing, because they think their minimum is maximum already. How many are not willing to go all the way or even any way with God, because they think they know best. How many turn their backs on God because they went through bad experiences with 'religion' or religious people. No wonder Jesus wept that the people then didn't recognize the 'time of their visitation', when God came down from heaven and most of them missed its significance, because He didn't meet human expectations.

So it is now as then, we still wander along the road of life, seemingly doing very well, not knowing or caring that all is actually not well with our souls.  We can get by with defective things, but we have only 1 life to live on this earth, and to live it 'just a little bit off' is a tragedy indeed, because it's the "little bit" called God we miss that makes all the difference.

"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly." - John 10:10

What More Can Chinese Do?

We are supposed to be enjoying a new era of freedom as Malaysia Baru. Indeed I sense a fresh wind blowing over this land. Where once I used to 'ho-hum' through the morning news, nowadays I can actually look forward to flipping open the pages .Yes, I am one of those die-hards who still like the feel of a hard copy in my hand as I sip my coffee. And of course, there's lots more to Watsapp and Fb postings than just food/baby/pet pictures to scroll through now.

Yet whilst there is indeed cause to applaud the many changes that have been rolling off Putrajaya's carpet, I am saddened by what I read from both sides of the divide. Despite all our talk about being a united Malaysia, there is still seemingly such a huge chasm between Malaysians.  I am saddened that we can be so angry as to plaster the picture of someone who is very much alive onto a Chinese tomb-stone, complete with joss-sticks and food offerings. It doesn't matter whose picture it is; the implication is obvious to all. In fact I am downright ashamed that Malaysians can do this to other Malaysians. If it's a Chinese who did it, I am doubly ashamed.  Yes, I know, people are angry at injustice, corruption, misuse of power and position. We should be angry at such evil, but surely that doesn't give us a license to curse or wish others dead.

I thought the tombstone episode was bad until I read a Malay writer's opinion that the Chinese in a certain political party were "in a way" practicing Nazism, to "eliminate Malay political power and keep Islam in check".  I wondered is that really how Malays see  Chinese? I scrolled down the comments section, and I was shocked at how many agreed with that opinion, not to mention the vitriol spewed out against Chinese. My journalist daughter tells me I should never read the comments attached to articles, because they are written by people who are "loud", only when they are banging on their keyboards. Maybe I am just an old aunty who's out of touch with this generation, and it's now an accepted thing to swear and spew hate about people you dislike.  But the very fact that such things are written saddens me, because it means obviously there are  people who  seem to think Chinese are out to 'get the Malays'.

Then came news of the historic appointment of a Chief Justice from Sabah - a first in the nation's judicial record - surely something that we should welcome, considering the person is pre-eminently qualified for the post, and it's really about time East Malaysia come into her own as equal partners in the Federation. Yet there were rumblings of discontent. That I understand.  We are all free to disagree. But what I couldn't understand was the incredulous (to me, anyway) claim that "the legal rights of Muslims are now under threat following the appointments of non-Muslims into top legal positions in the country." There were even claims that the Yang di-Pertuan Agong "has lost his voice to defend the Malays and Islam". Wait a minute,  I thought the Yang di Pertuan Agong is king of Malaysia, not just the Malays.  Maybe I got my history wrong.


I try to console myself, it's just political talk. But somehow, I can't shake off the disquiet in my heart. Maybe that's really how some Malays think of Chinese. Now that's really really sad. I remember the famous "What more do Chinese want?" provocation thrown at us not so long ago.Today, I would like instead to ask in all humility, "What more can Chinese do?"... to show the Malays, that we are not plotting to usurp your rights and privileges enshrined in the Constitution which was drawn up by the architects of Malaysia, who envisioned a multi-racial nation, united in diversity.  Maybe to some, it's just so many nice words, ringing hollow after 61 years. But if we can't believe and trust the guarantee of our Constitution, then it really isn't worth the paper on which it's written, and we are all just living a lie no matter how loud we shout about Malaysia Baru.

It was this very same legal document that gave my Chinese born-in-Malaysia parents citizenship, and I an identity card and passport that declares to the world I am a Malaysian. If for nothing but just that declaration and the fact that no other country in the world has acknowledged me as her own, don't I deserve a place under the Malaysian sun? Don't I have rights as any other Malaysian, irrespective of race or religion?

What more can Chinese do to show the Malay race in particular you don't need to fear that we intend to do you harm? Yes, I know we do not see eye-to-eye on many things.  In fact we may have hurt you with our words, deeds, actions. But by the same token, haven't Malays also hurt Chinese, sometime or other? Aren't we all equally guilty of presumption, one against the other? We may not worship the same God, we may not speak your language well, we may not understand or even agree on how you do certain things certain ways. But may I say I am as Malaysian as you. Tell me, what more can I, a Chinese,  do to show you, a Malay, that I love Malaysia like you, and I want to see all Malaysians - that's you, me, the orang asli/anak negeri, the Indians - prosper together in this beautiful land.

How can I, a Chinese, say I am sorry for all the wrongs that my race may have done to hurt you Malays, intentionally or unintentionally? I don't presume to speak for other Chinese, but I am just saddened that after sharing the most momentous change in Malaysia on 9th May 2018, it looks like we  are still  suspicious and can't trust each other enough to speak reconciliation instead of division, to make peace with instead of war against each other.

Surely it's possible to tear away the pages of an ugly past  and re-write another more beautiful story of Malaysia Baru together, or am I the only one dreaming pipe-dreams? Surely instead of fearing, we can choose to believe the best of each other in this new season, and recognize we are actually on the same side, that we are not enemies but one very unique Malaysian family, and be grateful there's nothing like Malaysia in the world.  And like all families, when we do quarrel now and then, we can be big-hearted enough to overlook offenses, forgive, make up and move on. Surely we don't need to wait another 60 years to throw off  the yoke of hate and choose instead to love one another as ourselves, to bless and wish each other well.

Published MMO 16/7/18

Please lah..

There's this video-clip of Tan Sri Rafidah Aziz being interviewed for her opinion about the inclusion of different races in political parties in the "new" Malaysian scenario post GE 14. Living up to her reputation as Iron Lady, Tan Sri was brutally honest, pulling no punches, and pre-facing her comments by a typical (very Malaysian) response  " Please lah... What's the problem?" , she expressed  "the silly notion of multi- racial..." and finished with the punch-line "it's you inside, thinking Malaysian... As long as you are thinking we need multi racial, you are not accepting people as Malaysian."

Now that had me wondering, what on earth does she mean? I think judging by the silence of her interviewers which greeted her answer, they also were stumped. After all, most people think the obvious solution to eradicating racism in our society is simply make sure everything we do involves all the races in the country. From celebrating festivals to shooting local movies, to admission of university students, to employment opportunities etc etc. Just include  the anak negeri, the Melayu, Chinese and Indian into whatever we are cooking up. And presto...we get a nice "multi-racial" politically correct 'rojak' everybody should be happy about.
 

But the reality is it's not that simple. Look at the various reaction over the recent issue of opening up UiTM to all races. Actually it isn't even something new at all, as such calls have been made way back in 2008, and again in 2014. My journalist daughter opined that "perhaps the core of the issue, which no one is really addressing, is our irrational desire to cling to our communal roots in a multi-racial society. This applies to Malays, Chinese, Indians, and Sabahans and Sarawakians." 

Indeed that's putting the finger on the hot button - the desire to cling to our racial roots. But is it irrational, really? Sure, we "should" desire and insist on equality for all people, that's a universally accepted guaranteed right, right! Certainly I don't deny that's the ideal to work towards , so that all races can live well in an egalitarian society. 

 
But the truth of the matter is many people continue to live in racial "silos". The last that I looked up there were at least 150,000 who signed the petition against opening up UiTM to non-bumis . And  11,000  objected to an Indian being appointed Attorney-General. I didn't have the energy or inclination to sift through  the reasons for so many objections, but I hazard a guess the majority called for protection of a certain race and religion.  Is it irrational to think that way? That depends on what your eye sees. It's not that we don't want equality, it's simply that we fear having less when we give up what we already have or are used to having. That means I lose when I let you win. So 1 Chinese or Indian occupying a college seat on merit means 1 less bumiputra getting in. I give you extra 1 portion of pie means I have less to eat for myself and my kind. That's a perfectly rational argument, simplistic though it may be. Wanting to protect our own 'turf' is a basic survival instinct.

 
It's no point saying I shouldn't feel that way, because I am what I am - we have our own individual specific ethnicity - we are born as an orang asal, a Malay, Chinese, Indian. The fact that I was born in Malaysia doesn't take away my Chinese - ness. And that's what my Malay neighbor sees at the first sight of my face before we get beyond the preliminary hello. 

 
All this talk about being multiracial is nice sentiment, but it can't change our racial DNA an iota. The problem isn't in the race or the religion.  The problem, as always, lies with humans - it's the "you", the "me" inside . At the heart of it is what's in our heart -  fear  and a lack of trust in others that are 'not my kind'. So  if the AG is an Indian and non-Muslim to boot,  the Malay's chief concern is that the position and rights of his race and religion in this nation will  be prejudiced . Likewise an Islamic scholar who is a reputed 'progressive Muslim' shouldn't be in charge of education, no matter how good his credentials are, just in case he (somehow) indoctrinates our impressionable Chinese/Indian youngsters to become potential jihadists. So too a Chinese  shouldn't be writing a book about the greatness of her Christian God, because it would (presumably) weaken the faith of others and cause them to turn apostate. 

 
Ultimately, it's the "us" versus "them" mentality. Because we suspect/expect once we 'give in' to those 'others', 'our' rights, privileges, entitlements, faith, etc will be eroded or worse taken away altogether, and we (read our kind) end up losers. That's a perfectly logical humanistic conclusion, and that's why we are still struggling to come to terms with this ugly thing called racism. We can shout all we want about being a tolerant multi- racial society, but the noise is just a surface camouflage . We dance together in  our various beautiful traditional costumes  and call that unity. No need to even bring up open-house festivals with the obligatory photos of all races eating together. Those are but physical nice 'show-cases' for tourists to ooh and ahh over. That's not to say we don't have a great time, we most certainly do, we enjoy and pat each other on the back, and congratulate one another on our multi-racial harmony. 

But when the music fades, and the festivities end, I venture we will continue to struggle with/against each other, if we don't deal with the root cause - the fear factor and the trust deficit in our own hearts against that 'other' ...anak negeri, Malay, Chinese, Indian.  That's how I understand Tan Sri Rafidah's statement that all this multi-racial talk is "silly"; the key, as she puts it,  is in "thinking Malaysian".

I guess that means it's ok for me to continue to be Chinese,  since I have 100% Chinese genes,  I can go ahead to do "Chinese-y" stuff, but instead of comparing and obsessing about winning or losing an issue vis-a-vis other races, I don't need to get all defensive about being Chinese.  Nor do I need to think, wait, is this multi-racial ? So if a non-Chinese Malaysian has got what it takes to get a job done, that's the person I should automatically support.  Even if it means that may well work out to be 'unequal' for my kind, and one less Chinese gets a bite of the cherry, pie or goreng pisang.

A good place to start "thinking Malaysian" would be if we can all stop being so calculative and jittery about special rights, religion and everything else under the sun. I get especially impatient every time certain 'sensitive' subjects crop up. Doesn't the fact that there are already specific safeguards in the supreme law of the land -the Malaysian constitution no less - count as an adequate guarantee? Then we might as well tear it up to recycle paper since it's seemingly not enough to secure our trust. Nowadays all it takes is someone to start a petition supporting one thing and straight away an opposing petition will pop up the next minute.


Please lah.... when can we grow up and stop treating each other as the bogeyman? If we can choose to see  beyond what's in it for 'us' only,  put ourselves in the 'other' person's shoes,  maybe, just maybe, we can grow to love "them" a little bit more, and fear them a little bit less.  Who knows, we may even mature to a stage where we would literally sacrifice ourselves for them, if it ever comes to that. Then and only then perhaps we can claim and say we are truly Malaysian, instead of settling for just being multi-racial.

Published MMO 12/6/18

Let's Not Kid Ourselves

Oh, the sweet euphoria of being caught up in the birth of a new thing.  Many are still adjusting to the winds of change  blowing across Malaysia since May 10 2018 when a motley group of politicians led by, of all people, a 92 year old ex-PM  claimed victory in GE 14, appropriately termed the 'mother' of all elections. Despite his own chequered past, the 'grand old man' turned hero of the hour,  proving to be the successful X-factor capable enough to unify Malaysians across the board  to overwhelmingly vote out a government that had ruled for 3 decades. It reminds me of a question in the Bible -  Can a country be born in a day or a nation be brought forth in a moment? Well,  I guess it's certainly been a long time coming - the birth of a truly 1Malaysia 'baby' which truth be told, hardly anybody really expected.

So now with all that talk about people power, everyone suddenly realizes they are the boss and the government is our servant. And like all bosses, we start telling the servant all the things we think the servant must do. We waste no time putting the servant in its place, when we don't like how this or that duty is being done. Hey, we are the boss after all. From lengthy to-do and not-to-do lists, well-intentioned suggestions to online petitions, we are all so eager to put our finger in to bake up a nice Malaysian 'pie'.  Which is all well and good, since we all have an equal and irrefutable share in the end-product. And we don't want to make the same old mistake of letting 1 'baker' do his own thing and swipe the pie all for himself and his cronies. However it seems to me we  run the danger of having too many bosses simply throwing their weight around, trying to chuck in all kinds of 'ingredients' of their own taste and choosing into the melting pot ; the idiom 'too many cooks spoil the soup' springs to my mind. Or we swing to the other extreme of the pendulum and idol-worship mere man as geniuses, applauding every move that resonates with our own pet ideas/causes.

A couple of days after the historic election, I got a long (anything above a 1 cm scroll on watsapp is long, and this one was at least a 25 cm scroll down) 21-point to-do/not-to-do list on how to be a rakyat of the new Malaysia, 'to make it a better place.' It was posted on 2 different chat-groups I am in (which only serves to make me want to quit being socially connected). It was purportedly sent by Hannah Yeoh (whom if you don't know, means you are either not a Malaysian or really really can't be bothered about politics) , who subsequently issued a statement denying it was from her. Actually, to me at least,  it was pretty obvious it couldn't have been from her, because I am sure she's got many other (more essential) things to do than sit around, penning a 21-pointer list for folks like me.

The 21 points suggested a whole range of ordinary actions that we should be doing - like stand on the left side of escalators, clear your own trays at McD/KFC, use signals when turning/switching lanes whilst driving, stop putting up canopies that block up the whole street when we throw a party in our house, say please, hi, thank you to bus-drivers, cashiers and restaurant-workers, ( I could add more to that one), be punctual, flush toilets, don't smoke in the presence of non-smokers, (I guess by extension then, we can include refrain from eating in front of Muslims who are fasting?) The list ended by saying 'No point having a new government if old habits don't die. Change starts from you...'

The list irked me, not so much because of its length or its 'preach-iness',  but because it was attributed to Hannah Yeoh, since that's an outright lie. Surely we don't need politicians to exhort us to be tolerant, sensitive to and respect other Malaysians who profess different faiths, who engage in different customs and traditions? Does a politician's name carry more 'weight' to turn us into nicer, more polite, considerate and caring folks? Or is it that a politician's words will make us more inclined to sacrifice our precious rights to favor someone else? Why can't we just say it like it should be said, do what we should know what to do, as one Malaysian to another?  Since when do we need to invoke a 'famous' name to justify a stand for responsible decent conduct, Malaysian or not?

Having said that, actually I understand perfectly where the author is coming from. And it's absolutely correct - change starts with the person staring back at us in the mirror.  Instead of just harping on every one of the government's actions, can we be mindful to watch ourselves first - how are we treating others in our attitudes, words and deeds in our daily interactions ?  Perhaps instead of bossing the government around so much, it would do us good to take stock of how we  behave as members of the society we live in. What's the point of arguing about who should be this or that minister,  if we can't do  simple things like stop littering, recycle household waste or take time to report pot-holes and faulty street-lights? Why talk about democracy and equality when we - the bosses - hesitate to employ certain races or refuse to rent out our nice apartments to certain people? All that has got nothing to do with governing the nation, and everything to do with us personally, individually as a citizen of Malaysia. If we can't even do the little things right ourselves, how do we expect the government to do bigger things? It's like I get myself  brand new clothes, but don't bother to bathe when I change into them... I would still stink.

So whilst I laud the post-election freedom that's so refreshing, let's not kid ourselves Malaysia will be a better place just because we have a new government, who should listen to us . Certainly they better do their job well, because we put them up there, and we can fire them if they don't perform, after 5 years.  By all means, contribute new ideas, give feedback, constructive criticism and engage in meaningful discourse. But let's remember  when we elected them to be leaders, we gave them the power and authority to act in good governance. To do their job effectively, they need the freedom we gave them to make decisions, set the direction, implement policies.  If everyone of us want to be leaders to call the shots, there will be no followers. Then all we get is a mass of noisy leaders, all intent on getting their way, because everyone has the right.  The end result is a government which will not be able to function as it's supposed to - because it's too busy having to listen to the bosses, no work gets done.

So, can we - the bosses - let go the reins a bit for the servant  to move, and let the government do its job as it should be done, drawing from the expertise of professionals, mindful of its mandate and responsibilities to deliver on promises made? And we ourselves do what we should be doing on our turf, working together, as co-builders of a new, maturing Malaysia.

Published MMO 20/5/18

Poison or Perfume

What is it about politics that can turn humans into monsters?
Especially during election season.

Okay, I know there's no love lost between opposing camps when it comes down to battling for every vote from a (sometimes very fickle and fussy) populace. It's the time when the public gets wooed with everything thrown into their bucket. Well, almost everything. It used to be just (plain) cash, but now I hear there are offers of Mercedes Benz C200 being bandied around. That's indeed upping the ante a notch. Though if I were the type to sell my soul for a vote, I would take cold hard cash anytime. A car is only a car. What's the use of a Merc if I don't have the cash to pay for its petrol? By the way I am still quite baffled by what actually qualifies as 'buying votes'.

I am sorry but I get rather cynical  when 'suddenly' all sorts of development projects worth billions of ringgit are practically signed, sealed and delivered to remote villages, faraway highlands and lowlands all over Malaysia. Oh yes, I know, I should be glad, at least every 5 years. there is this season of 'suddenly', where new roads, schools, community halls, airports, wi-fi services, and all manner of social amenities are generously dished out for the 'common good.'  It's great, but shouldn't this be the norm instead of once every 5 years?

Anyway, for (selfish, little) me,  is it too much to ask just for everyone to keep public toilets clean and usable? And how about some proper planning before 'donating' ridiculously outsized (and no doubt not cheap), heavy rubbish bins that's so hard for the poor  trash collector to reach into to retrieve all my household garbage? It's bad enough he's got to put up with stink and maggots the whole day, no one sees how back-breaking it must be for him to try to get to that last plastic bag that lies right at the deep bottom of the bin. But who cares anyway. He's  (probably) 'just' another migrant worker. He should be thankful he can eat bread-n-margarine (butter is too expensive) in beautiful Malaysia.

Of course, we Malaysians got bigger things to worry about, like corruption, injustice, traitors and enemies of the nation. Every now and then, we get all uptight about financial scandals, mismanagement of funds, suspicious donations (of the multi-billion ringgit kind), dubious business deals involving public (ie yours and my) money. Somehow the noise gets extra loud in the 'suddenly' season of election campaigning. I have a confession though, nowadays,  I am not sure anymore what is 'fake' and what is truth. It doesn't help that everything - even an opinion - can be 'suddenly' (there's that word again) fake, and subject to criminal investigation.  Of course I stand for justice, truth, righteousness and good governance. But wait a minute, shouldn't this be the norm instead of just 'now and then', or 'suddenly' once every 5 years?

Hey, I am 'anak Malaysia', of course I love my country. Which Malaysian, no matter what our political inclinations, doesn't? We are all patriotic folks. So how is it that 'suddenly', we aren't on the same page of love when it comes to electing a government? Heck, we can't be civil to each other anymore. It upsets me how human decency and respect seems to have flown out of the window altogether in the course of this 'suddenly' season. How is it we can bad-mouth or curse another human being, a fellow Malaysian, no less, simply because we don't like his/her politics? How infantile can we get, throwing paint on or cutting out people's faces on billboards? ...seriously, isn't that  typical 'Ah Long' gangster behavior? Whatever's happened that we can be so out-of-control of our emotions we physically push down people we disagree with? What kind of people are we when in the name of so-called ritual or religion we 'step on'  another human being - even if it's only a paper drawing of that person - and deliberately wish him/her ill? Have we grown so intolerant that we 'crucify' a person who dares to testify about the goodness and the greatness of her God as a dangerous religious fanatic out to destroy other people's faith?

We seem to have confused ideas about what is truly evil. Is the person who siphons off tax-payers' money in public office more 'evil' than the rude one who calls my race 'pendatang' who should 'go home'? How about the  individual who can video-tape a child being bullied, but is not bothered enough to lodge a police report? Is the one recording the incident 'less evil' than the perpetrator of violence? Why is  'watsapping' messages of hate acceptable but not the act of murder?  Suffice to say in our own eyes, we are the only ones right, all others against ie not like/for us are wrong - so 'they' are evil -  they must be overthrown, destroyed, discredited, howsoever whatsoever.  Consciously or unconsciously, we justify our pet beliefs, out of which come our responses and defenses. Jesus puts His finger right on our human hearts when He admonishes, "And why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not consider the plank in your own eye.. Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me remove the speck from your eye’; and look, a plank is in your own eye?" (Matthew 7:3-4)

It's sad to see Malaysians driven apart by our own design. We are our own worst enemies because we forget we are fighting for the same things really at the end of the day. It's a pity if we choose to poison this land with hate instead of perfuming it with love, if instead of being peace-makers, we stir up violence, whether by word or deed,  - against each other. We can get so hung up on politics and politicians, we miss the heart of it all - we - the ordinary rakyat - fail to be the Malaysian we are supposed to be to all other Malaysians.

I wonder, is it just now only  'suddenly' we have become less than humane humans to one another, or  horror of horrors, deep inside, we have all along been like that - espousing equality with our mouths but actually our hearts are still secretly harboring resentment, pride and bitterness against those 'not like' us. (I think the term is hypocrite). Are we content to just get by holding 'muhibbah' open houses every festival and call that unity?  I hope not, because that's not the Malaysia I dream of, and want to be part of. Why are we surprised and oh-so-pleased when a Chinese boy helps a Malay pak-cik or an Indian "Ama" across a busy road?  Shouldn't that be the expected norm in a multi-racial (supposedly) harmonious nation?

 I can never be a bumiputra in this land, I am not an Indian, I can only be a Chinese, but my heart's prayer is that I will be the most Malaysian Chinese I can be to the orang asli/anak negeri whom I meet in  church, to my Melayu mak-cik neighbor, to my Indian newspaper-vendor, to the Indonesian maids who come by to clean the house, to the Nepali guard who waves at me every morning, as I drive past.

I don't need politicians who promise heaven and earth once every 5 years , but I do need God to remind me, how easily I can turn into a monster who spews poison that stinks up everything around me, instead of being one of the many different flowers He has planted in this field called Malaysia, exuding a perfume that beautifies and makes fragrant my little corner of this land. I don't need an election to teach me about human decency, mutual respect and just plain manners  - Shouldn't that be the norm for everyday living?

Published MMO 7/5/18

Letting Go

I made a grown man cry the other day. Or to put it more accurately,  God used me to make a grown man cry. There's no other explanation for it. I am just sitting there, telling my half-blind friend from the street the age-old story of Jesus risen from the dead, to allay his fears of dying, when suddenly he asks me to stop, brushes his eyes and remarks that it's not easy to make a man cry. So I tell him, crying's a good thing, because it means his hardened heart is being softened, and that's the kind of heart that God works best in. I pray for a new heart for my friend, he gets up and walks off. In my own heart, I rejoice, because I know it's God's spirit stirring inside my friend, to show him how real is this Jesus he has called upon as his Savior.

The next night I attended the wake of my ex-collegue and prayer partner's 88 year old father. Uncle B has been suffering from illness for several years. I have only visited him 3 or 4 times max over the past 2 years. We would talk, he somewhat belabored because of his ailing heart. But he would tell me there was nothing left in this world for him to continue living for, because he had done everything that needed to be done regarding his family  and he had not hurt or caused any harm to anybody. When I asked him if he thought that was enough to get him to heaven when he died, he said he just wanted to go where his (deceased) mom was, wherever that may be. Such is the depth of filial love - he didn't much care for heaven but rather for the woman who gave birth to him. Which is why I was rather surprised he actually agreed to accept Jesus when I asked him on one particular visit. As it was, my friend told me he still kept talking about dying and going to be with his mom. I have to confess, like my friend, humanly we both had our doubts about the 'authenticity' of the old man's faith - God, forgive us. Our reasoning is most likely he mouthed the words just to please me or his family, since we were always telling him how good and great the love of Christ is. That was how things stood with uncle B, right through his illness which got worse through the years till it necessitated admission into intensive care recently.

From what my friend tells me, her father suffered much physically, so much so in his delirium he asked for a knife to kill himself. When denied, he blamed the family for not letting him die. And then the miracle happened.... finally ....on his own accord, he said it... "I let my mother go... Jesus, take me home".  After his discharge from hospital, I was supposed to visit him to say a last good-bye later in the afternoon. But that very morning, my friend messaged me that dear uncle B's last wish had been fulfilled by a faithful, merciful God who always answers at just the right time.  At the wake, through tears, the family all spoke of the joy of knowing their loved one was safe in the arms of Jesus. And I cried with them, sharing the same joy, content that I had played even that very small part in uncle B's life.

2 stories, 2 men, one fearing death, the other chasing after it. Seemingly random unconnected events, but not quite really, as I think over what happened, I realize that many times, it's not God who won't or can't show up, rather it's we who stop Him from being real in our lives. Because of the 'stuff' we hang on to and won't let go, be it things, rights, opinions, feelings, habits, attitudes, people (even dead ones)... all the 'baggage' we carry around, quite unconsciously,  that blocks us off from the One who really wants us to prosper well in body, soul and spirit. And then we 'blame' God for not showing up in front of our eyes when we demand it, when it's we who's standing in His way.  Truth is unless we choose to surrender, to yield and be 'soft' towards the Lover and Beloved of our soul, we will have a hard time believing and trusting in the divine or the miraculous. We would not even want to bother to know Him, we would write God off as just a 'religion' which as one quote brags is just a 'crutch for the weak.' I know, because I was one of those who had neither need nor inclination to believe in anything except myself...

Until I was broken, watching my husband die over the course of 2 long years. It will be 16 years this April since his passing. Paradoxically it's only when I 'break', that I can receive the healing to be made whole again.  No longer do I think of it as a passing 'away' into the meaningless emptiness of death, but I rest assured it's a passing 'into glory' of an eternal life, completely free from all worldly cares, suffering and pain. The faith I now enjoy was birthed only when I admitted I was wrong - about God, about myself. Only when I let go of my attachments did I catch hold of something bigger, something better which I now understand God had already prepared and made available, specially to and for me.

I am still learning to let go some more in this journey called life on earth. It sounds easy, but it's not, because it means saying no to my own pleasures and desires, sometimes even going against all the rational logic of my own mind. But the sacrifice is a small price to pay compared to the joy of having a very real, personal God in my life to love, honor, trust and obey, knowing that at the end of this road, there is an even greater joy waiting - to be greeted by those who have gone on first...my  husband, uncle B, my friends from the street, people who have called upon the same name I call upon everyday - the sweet name of Jesus, which means simply "Salvation". And indeed how great a Salvation He is, who gives to all who believe an everlasting Hope, grounded not on what we can do, but on what He has done, sacrificing His own life at the cross, so that none may perish.

As the days count down to the season of Passover, when thousands of years ago, the angel of death passed over God's people, whose house doors were marked by the blood of a sacrificial lamb, and God's own mighty hand parted the Red Sea so they could safely cross  whilst their enemies were swamped thereunder,  I will greet Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday with a grateful heart that I, together with countless others, have crossed over from slavery into true freedom, made  possible by the blood of Christ shed for the world.... To Him is rightly due all glory, honor, power and praise forever and ever.

"The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound" -Isaiah 61:1

So what's another New Year

I think I have a weird family. When just about every other family in town is gathered together around the dinner table on the first day of the new year , enjoying a feast, taking selfies and we-fies, we are each doing our own thing. Two are somewhere out of the house, and the remaining one prefers to go to the gym at dinner time, so that leaves me and me eating alone at the table. Does sound rather pathetic, doesn't it?
Oh, but we already had our family thingy over Christmas. Though it's kind-of ironic, considering the children are all grown up and grown out of the "religious stuff". But at least there was a family gathering. So I guess it's really no big deal, not getting together (again) barely a week later to celebrate a(nother) new year.  After all, we still stay in the same house what, at least for now. We still eat together, when we can, if we can. We still celebrate birthdays and other occasions out. For such times, I should be, I am, always grateful, mindful that they are precious moments to be treasured, for one day I will not be around with them anymore, or vice-versa.

Anyway what's so special about another new year? No, I am not going to grouch about new year, after grouching about Christmas. Or I will end up being branded a sour old cynic. Actually I got a lot of good wishes for Christmas and New Year, as I am sure everybody did. It's very easy to just click and share happy thoughts and well-intentioned messages with the whole wide world. I even received greetings from people I don't know, like the sales rep I called only once many moons ago to enquire about some advert. Honestly after awhile, I 'tuned off'; I didn't click on the (umpteenth) video-clip blasting season greetings, I stopped typing thank you and same to you replies on social media platforms at the risk of being considered rude or churlish, I deleted lots of photos and images that after awhile blurred into just...well..images.

I thought the best greeting was the shot of a young child in a 'scolding' pose, with 1 finger wagging - see the pix for full effect... Now this is so......real.  There was another one of a clock with a hand that moves from 2017 to 2018. On the 2017 face were all the negative words like stress, corruption, hate, diseases, failures etc. And as the hand moves, the negatives are replaced with the opposite/corresponding positives like healthy, successful, prosperous, exciting, hopeful, bright... and then fireworks come on with the challenge... You have 12 new chapters, 365 new chances waiting for you.... I mean, it's all very nicely done, graphically. Only at the end of it, I found myself thinking...now if only it were that easy - all the past bad stuff wiped out with 1 swoop of the hand to be replaced automatically with all the good, just over 24 hours.

Ok, ok. I am being a grouch. Seriously I appreciate all the wonderful wishes and prayers for a great year ahead. And I wish the same for all fellowmen. Certainly deep within every human heart is the innate desire for a "good" life, and as Alexander Pope accurately puts a finger on it, "Hope springs eternal in the human breast". Every culture in the world celebrates new year, in their own ways whether it's on January 1st or any other day of their own tradition. And it's called a new year for obvious reason - out with the old, in with the new -  we get another chance, a shot at something (hopefully) better than what we got in the past.

Still I am sure there are many people out there who don't feel obliged to celebrate new year with family, loved ones or friends. In fact there are probably many out there who don't have family, loved ones or anybody whom they can call friend. Perhaps even if they do have, they don't find anything particularly special in the 1st day of a new year to celebrate. Indeed isn't every day a new day that can be celebrated? So on second thought, I guess my family isn't that weird really.

The truth of the matter is sometimes life just doesn't seem to get better, whether it's by the day or by the year.  So after the euphoria of exploding fireworks and happy feasting on that one first day of 365 days, we stop passing on beautiful platitudes as life settles down to a predictable ho-hum, more of the same same stuff, and the new year turns old, even as quickly as the second day dawns. Then when we get to count down to the next new year, we start shaking hands and clicking share-buttons on our hand-phones again, and the whole merry-go-round goes... one more round. But a new year doesn't automatically become better, no matter how ardently we wish it would or how hard we work at it. That's why frankly, after awhile all the feel-good messages sound rather hollow to me.

Especially when faced with the reality of difficult circumstances, like this street friend of mine whom I have known for a long while, from the days he was battling drugs and health issues. He had quietly decided one day to trust in the God we talked about every Saturday as we feed people such as he. Things actually got better for my friend after that, I was so happy to hear he had gone back to stay with his relatives when he came occasionally to 'hang out' with us. Until just before Christmas, he told me he had been kicked out because they discovered he went to church. He, for one, has no cause to celebrate the new year, which from the looks of it, has just gone from good to bad and in all likelihood will only get worse.

I didn't know how to help my friend, I could only cry with him, pray for him, and tell him what I knew of our God - that He never leaves nor forsakes us, even if the whole world rejects us for our faith. Because His name is Emmanuel, God with us. Just 2 days before the new year, as I sat with my friend again, he was in such a state I couldn't make out what he was saying. Turned out he wanted to be 'certified officially' as a Christian; he was prepared to follow Jesus all the way, even if ostracized, persecuted or imprisoned. I looked at this man - skinny, shabby and unshaven. For a brief moment, I am ashamed to say I doubted him, I wondered if he was high on drugs. But my heart connected and right there, in the smelly back-alley, I remembered the words spoken from heaven over Jesus at His baptism, "This is my Son, whom I love, with Him I am well-pleased..."  (Matthew 3:17) Who am I to judge this brother? God's rebuke to me was clear - an illiterate down-n-out street vagabond had displayed much stronger faith than I, who had spent the last 16 years of my life listening to countless sermons in a comfortable church building.

I knew it would be a good year for my friend after all. For as I told him, he did not have to go anywhere or do anything to get an 'official certificate' from anybody in this world that he is a follower of the Way, the Life, and the Truth. I could assure him with all certainty that the very moment he confessed with his mouth and
believed in his heart that Jesus is Lord, his name was already recorded in His book of life forever more before God and all the angels in heaven - because God said so. And now there only remained his getting baptized, as a visible act of being reborn, from death to life, from old to new. That's something to celebrate indeed.

Just like Christmas, we don't need to wait for January 1st to celebrate or to bless anyone with good wishes and prayers. In fact, any day is a good time to celebrate the goodness of a God who gives, to all who believe, new life everyday.

"The one who is victorious will...be dressed in white. I will never blot out the name of that person from the book of life, but will acknowledge that name before my Father and his angels" - Revelation 3:5